


Nightfall

by Whiteasy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26428642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiteasy/pseuds/Whiteasy
Summary: Far away from prying eyes, he found comfort in his company. Although, he had never expected this turn of events.
Relationships: Reiner Braun & Bertolt Hoover, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The corniest of corny shit I've ever written about them. This is set in the canonverse, in an alternate narrative where RBA make it back to Marley after Rts. Don't ask me the specifics. I'm not plotty to come up with anything remotely convincing.

Reiner swore he could hear his heartbeat in his own ears. Actually, if his senses hadn’t been so heightened due to the entire, unfamiliar situation, he would also swear he could hear Bertholdt’s own heart thunder in his chest. Don't argue metaphors and semantics with him–he had never had Bertholdt this close to him.   
They were objectively drunk, so that was one of the reasons they could never find themselves in such (craved?) proximity. He doesn’t even remember what they were talking about. 

Right, he did in fact. He was talking about the outdoor party his fellow comrades threw for themselves as a celebration of their recent victory on the Mid-East Allied Forces. That’s how they both got drunk on some exotic wine in the first place. The once cozy atmosphere gradually grew rowdy, as their colleagues got drunker, some of them, angrier. It was only a matter of time before a fight or two broke. Reiner usually lurked behind, ready to dash and break off whatever ludicrous spat would result from his comrades’ over-indulgence in alcohol but, tonight he was no one’s knight in shining armor. He wanted to have the night off.

Plus, Bertholdt has been itching to scamper off because of how loud and stifling the atmosphere grew to be (it was the end of August but, the days were still sweltering despite autumn looming closer by the day).   
So, they had retired to the headquarters, staggering on heavy feet toward their respective rooms. The outside commotion was reduced to muffled laughter, so Reiner found himself stifling a yawn, as the exhaustion from the day caught up to him. He would probably drift into slumber as soon as he’d collapse on the mattress.   
Or, that had been the plan, before Bertholdt suggested they could go to his room instead, “the window opens up to a better view of the party.” He chuckled softly when Reiner arched a quizzical eyebrow at him, as the other had been the one to suggest they step away in the first place.   
“From up here, I can tolerate the noise, and, well, _everything_. It's nice to watch and see everyone just, happy, even if it was only for a night.” That had been his argument for his contradicting actions. It didn’t matter whether or not it made sense–how could Reiner to deny him anything, anyway?

He acquiesced to his best friend’s wish, hoping that the soft breeze from up high would sober him up a bit. For a while, that’s all he did; stand beside Bertholdt and gaze down at their inebriated comrades singing (or rather, slurring) tunes he hadn’t heard in years. Not since the war. 

Reiner sniggered when he caught sight of Pieck making out with a blonde woman he didn’t recognize. He watched in amusement as the raven-haired dragged her companion, whilst giggling mischievously, to what he assumed would be her own room. Right, he might have to sleep with his pillow atop his head.   
Reiner was about to voice out his latter thought to his companion when he was taken off guard by his melancholic smile. He instinctively followed his gaze, his heart sinking in his boots as soon as he realized whom Bertholdt was gazing fondly, and sadly at. 

Annie. 

She was stood by herself near the small buffet they had put together in less than an hour, stuffing her face with whatever her eyes and hands landed on (Annie was such a messy eater, as always).   
Reiner tore away his gaze from the scene in his central and peripheral vision, as he couldn't handle seeing Bertholdt look besotted with her.   
He had already witnessed enough throughout the years. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He really, really just needed a break, from everything. 

Still, his brain had latched onto one detail. 

“What’s wrong?” Reiner asked, jolting Bertholdt from whatever reverie he had been lost in. He had expected Bertholdt to turn crimson and flustered, as he was prone to be whenever anyone mentioned him staring at the blonde. 

Quite the opposite, he remained eerily composed, the same chagrined smile plastered on his face.

“It’s just... Annie.” Right, Reiner had already figured that part out, “when was even the last time we saw her look this... laid back and at ease?” Frankly, Annie behaved as if the world will be struck with an ever-lasting famine in the next couple of minutes but, sure. Bertholdt had always had an odd way with words, and more often than once, Reiner struggled to understand the meaning behind his observations. 

This, however, didn’t need much deciphering–even he could get it. Loud and clear. 

“You should be with her.” Reiner blurted before he could think better, “who knows? Maybe you’ll get lucky this time.”

Reiner was again taken off-guard when Bertholdt merely sighed. 

“I’m just genuinely happy she’s finally home, where she always belonged.” Bertholdt uttered finally.

A heavy silence fell between them, and Reiner felt it was perhaps the appropriate time for him duck out and head to bed. The words had been right on the tip of his tongue when Bertholdt spoke again, “besides, if I wanted to be with her, I wouldn’t have invited _you_ here. With me.”  
A pregnant pause, during which Reiner's mouth hung agape, as he tried to process what Bertholdt just told him, and what it exactly implied. He didn’t just imagine that, did he? 

God, he was grateful for the dimness of the room, lest Bertholdt caught sight of his furious blushing before bursting into laughter. Reiner wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes for at least a year, because this had to be one of Bertholdt’s bleak jokes. 

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Bertholdt truly meant what Reiner thought his words entailed. If they didn’t, then why had Bertholdt shifted closer, until their faces were mere inches apart? Why was he gazing at him ever so tenderly then? Why was sweat unmistakably beading on his forehead, Bertholdt’s natural reaction whenever he was genuinely nervous?

Was it because he was thinking what Reiner actually thought about in that moment?

God, he wished he wasn’t hallucinating or dreaming or this wasn’t some side effects of the glass too many of alcohol he had knocked down his throat less than an hour ago. His cognitive faculties were an utter mess, as Reiner said the last thing anyone in his shoes would never say.   
“A–Annie, um, she’s still–” whatever Reiner had meant to sputter soon died on his throat when Bertholdt brushed their lips together.

He did so shyly at first, a chaste peck on the lips, once, twice, before Reiner’s hands cupped his face gently, and kissed him with slightly more vigor, leaving no room to doubts in the brunet’s head that neither one of them misread the signs. Reiner frankly didn’t fathom how he suddenly felt brave enough to do what he had always wanted to do, despite Bertholdt beating him to it first, against all the odds. Yet, he was in no state of mind to think. Not when Bertholdt was kissing him back tenderly, if not lovingly. 

They eventually broke off their kiss, the need for air clawing at their throats. Bertholdt rested his forehead against his, his thumbs stroking gently his cheekbones. Reiner sighed contently, as he pushed Bertholdt’s bangs away from his eyes.   
“Still think I should call Annie here?” Bertholdt asked, a tease in his voice. Reiner could get used to this.

He chuckled softly before pulling him into another languid kiss. He couldn’t help the flutter in his heart when Bertholdt smiled against his lips. 

Reiner would’ve never pictured a single scenario where they would wind up kissing fervently in front of Bertholdt’s wide open window, when everyone downstairs could easily catch glimpse of what they were doing. However, right then, none of that mattered to him.

He finally had him, and that’s all he found he could care about. 


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the epilogue is here. Enjoy xx

The room was still dim, despite the break of dawn half an hour ago. It didn’t matter anyway–Reiner had been to this particular room more than once, had memorized every corner, every crumpled paper underneath the wooden desk, and even the spots of spilled red wine on the floor Bertholdt had never bothered to mop. He had always been quite orderly yet, his room divulged a messiness Reiner couldn’t help but smile fondly at. However, his friend’s state of order, or rather the lack thereof, didn’t astound him as much as did the individual himself, especially following the previous night’s events. 

Not that much has happened anyway–they hadn’t gone further than kissing and cuddling. Plus, the mere thought of doing more made the heat rise to Reiner’s cheeks. So, taking it slow, at least yesterday, went without a saying between them. It had been always been like that between them–they didn’t need to say much to understand each other.

Although, this time, Reiner had read him completely wrong when it came to whom Bertholdt was actually into. 

Reiner cursed himself for his obliviousness, as it made him instantly reminisce on all the missed opportunities. But he was still grateful he had been mistaken; it had been the most delightful of surprises to realize–or rather have it spelled out for him–that his yearning for the one man he had ever loved had been mutual, and for years as Bertholdt had bashfully confessed the prior night. If it wasn’t for Bertholdt snoring softly next to him in his cramped bed, Reiner would’ve still struggled to believe it. Hell, he even sometimes feared that the warmth radiating off the person next to him right now, the soft, longing touches and the feeling of soft lips moving against his in such harmony hours ago, had been nothing but a hallucination–a mirage about a reality he felt that he should’ve never had the right to. 

Reiner shuddered at the latter thought before shifting on his side, now facing the man sound asleep beside him. An involuntary smile quirked his lips upwards at the sight of Bertholdt’s disheveled hair. Reiner reached forward, carding his calloused fingers in his dark locks, trying his utmost not to wake up the other. He mused over the fact that he didn’t wake up to his companion’s feet shoved in his face, as the brunet was renowned for his sleep-induced acrobatics. 

This time was quite different; Bertholdt was laying on his stomach, limbs motionless, evidently subdued from the previous months' exhaustion. 

Reiner felt his heart swell when Bertholdt sighed in content, before splaying a hand lazily across his midsection. Reiner watched in amusement as Bertholdt frowned before sneaking his palm to the small of his back, pulling him flush against him. 

“And you really expect me to believe you’re still asleep?” Reiner arched an eyebrow, incredulous. A ghost of a smile played at Bertholdt’s lips. 

“You still fell for it, for a while at least.” Bertholdt blinked his eyes open, his smile widening. 

“Yeah. Should’ve known; you never sleep like a regular human being.” 

“You don’t want to know how I actually woke up.” 

“Well, how long have you been up?” Reiner trailed his hand down his raven hair to cup a stubbled jaw. Bertholdt nuzzled his palm, Reiner chuckling softly when he kissed his hand.

He could get used to this. He really wanted to. 

“A couple of minutes before you did. The party died down a while ago it seemed. Although, I still heard someone talking outside.” 

“Looks like we missed quite the night.” 

“Did we? I don’t remember you complaining about not having to break off some drunk slobs’ squabbles.” Bertholdt inched closer, “besides, I don’t remember you complaining about,” Bertholdt’s voice dropped an octave lower and Reiner’s heart skipped a beat when he brought them together in a languid kiss, “this.” 

No, he absolutely had no complaints whatsoever. Frankly, if anyone asked him, he’d rather stay here, with him and not come out of this room, until the end of their terms. But he wasn’t delusional; nothing ever lasts. Not for anyone, and especially not for them.

Everything had practically been set in stone. 

Bertholdt must’ve sensed his inner turmoil so he broke their kiss, resting his forehead against his, before sighing heavily. 

“What are you thinking?” He whispered, and for some reason, Reiner knew that he already knew his answer. 

“That we’re on borrowed time.” 

“We’ve always known that. Ever since we joined the warriors' training program. Ever since we inherited our titans.” 

“I know but–” Reiner mulled his next words over, feeling remorse and melancholy wash over him, “it’s different now.” If only they were born in another world, free and not burdened by the fate they’ve been bestowed, simply because they were different.

Bertholdt must’ve understood the intonation of his words, maybe even from the morosity that seeped through his voice, so he didn’t say more. Reiner was taken by surprise, however, when a beaming smile broke on his partner's face. Every time, without fail, that sweet smile of his brought him immense comfort. Life would be so much easier if he saw him smile more often. 

“Yes,” Bertholdt breathed, starry-eyed, “it’s different now.” He cupped his cheek in his palm, stroking his cheekbone tenderly, and Reiner felt like crying. God, he could’ve had so much more of this, if only he hadn’t been so oblivious, and so lost in his own head. 

“We can’t change the way things are. And our days are numbered but, I have you. And if you want...” Bertholdt trailed off. Reiner felt his heart swell with affection for the man facing him when he took in the endearing pink hue that dusted his cheeks, “you have me.” 

_Until death do us part,_ Reiner almost blurted but he stopped himself short, out of embarrassment. They confessed their feelings to each other merely hours ago, he couldn’t propose to him shortly after too, even if Bertholdt’s rather bold words didn’t actually insinuate any less. 

Reiner needn’t say more. This was perfect. If this is all he could have, then he’ll be eternally grateful that in this hellish world, he was proffered these miraculous, stolen moments of happiness. 

“Yes.” Reiner breathed, awed by the way Bertholdt’s face lit up at his words, “I’d like that very much.” He finished, an almost childish-like grin stretching on his face. Bertholdt mirrored his with one of his own before he pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering for a moment longer. 

Yes, there was nothing anyone could do to change a history of two thousand years of misery and suffering. Neither he nor Bertholdt held the power to do so, and his heart clenched for those that would come after them, bear the cross they bore until they were sickly, alone and awaiting their ineluctable end.

Still, it didn’t mean he couldn’t have at least one good thing out of this life. 

Face burrowed in Bertholdt’s chest, his steady heartbeat soothing him and lulling him back to sleep as his best friend held him securely in his arms, Reiner silently prayed that this would be a moment he’d remember before everything eventually fades to black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this ignoring canon because the latter hurts me too much.


End file.
